Chapter 182: The Beginning

Reacher and Roscoe set off first to find Paul, while the others began preparing their equipment. Ray King, using the IRS's name, managed to get a few bulletproof vests and communicators for them, as more enthusiastic citizens than initially expected were joining the operation.

Jack switched the car back to the Firebird, taking Braxton to head out first. The others would follow later and go straight to Kleiner's ranch to lay low.

Dana and Ray King stayed in Atlanta to coordinate with the IRS reinforcements and prepare for the follow-up raids.

The Kleiner family's assets spread across Georgia, and taking down their stronghold in Margrethe Town would be the end for the team, but just the beginning for the IRS.

Finlay confirmed that everything was going smoothly. He subtly hinted to Stevenson that he knew the whereabouts of the Hubble family and arranged to meet at his house at 8 PM. All this was observed by the old man, Baker.

At 7:55 PM, Finlay's Ford car appeared at Stevenson's house. Jack's Firebird, with its engine off, was parked in the nearby woods.

Jack and Braxton sat in the car, observing the surroundings, worried that Kleiner's men might act early and ambush Finlay. They had been waiting here since nightfall.

Seeing Finlay get out of the car and knock on the door, Braxton, holding binoculars, looked puzzled and then down at his own attire.

"What's wrong with this guy? We're in the South, and he's wearing a coarse wool suit?"

Jack stifled a laugh. Spending the past few days with this guy, he realized Finlay indeed didn't fit into this town.

"Maybe it's because he's from Boston."

They chatted idly for a while. Soon, Braxton, still observing through the binoculars, suddenly said, "They're here, two cars: a Ford pickup and a GMC van."

Jack squinted at the road. The pickup was in the lead, followed by the GMC, both moving off the highway and onto the road to Stevenson's house. 

The cars moved slowly, turning off their headlights as they turned.

"Get ready." Jack pressed a button on his phone, sending a pre-written message to Finlay.

Putting his phone back in his pocket, both men grabbed their HK416s, fitted with silencers and scopes, and crouched into the bushes about thirty to forty meters from the house. This spot was chosen earlier, offering a perfect line of sight to the house's front door while remaining concealed.

The cars slowly stopped on the lawn in front of the house. From the leading Ford pickup, an old bald policeman in uniform, Baker, got out.

From the GMC, four men in white protective suits and rubber shoe covers emerged. The leader was Dawson, Kleiner's crazy cousin, carrying a crowbar with a gun at his waist. The others carried shotguns and tool kits, presumably filled with their torture devices.

Jack sighed with disappointment. He had hoped Little Kleiner would come so he could deal with that scumbag right here.

Dawson pointed a finger at Baker and then at Stevenson's door, signaling him to knock and deceive the occupants into opening it, unaware of the two HK416s aimed at their backs from the bushes.

"Leave two alive. We need the bald cop and the guy with the crowbar. Don't kill them directly."

Jack disengaged the safety and softly instructed Braxton.

Braxton nodded, acknowledging the command. Though they had already divvied up their targets, Jack knew Braxton's method: he never left anyone alive once he started shooting. He worried Braxton might finish them off with a quick shot later.

Meanwhile, Baker hesitantly walked up the steps and raised his hand to knock. The other four followed closely, sticking to the wall by the door, ready to rush in as soon as it opened.

Just as Baker knocked, all the lights in the house went out simultaneously, leaving only a dim porch light on.

The situation inside and outside the house reversed instantly. The interior, once lit, turned dark, while the exterior remained visible.

Caught off guard, the killers outside exchanged confused glances. Just as they were bewildered, a few pops, like champagne corks popping, echoed, and the five men outside the house fell, hit before they could even scream.

Both Jack and Braxton were excellent marksmen, aiming for the back or waist to hit vital organs. The bullets piercing their lungs left the victims gasping painfully.

"Go," Jack commanded. He and Braxton leaped from the bushes and, in five or six seconds, reached the front yard.

"Bang! Bang!" They fired while running, focusing on the two men with shotguns, ensuring headshots. The shotguns didn't have silencers; pulling the triggers would have alerted anyone within miles.

Under the porch light, Jack saw Dawson struggling to draw his gun, blood frothing from a wound on his right back. Without hesitation, Jack slammed him with a rifle butt.

"Finlay, open the door. It's over."

The door opened, revealing a tense Finlay holding a Browning 1911, looking around nervously. His expression shifted to shock at the sight of the bodies on the porch.

Behind him, Stevenson, holding a shotgun, stood guard, his wife cowering behind him, both pale with fear.

Seeing the bloody scene, Stevenson's wife almost screamed but was quickly silenced by her husband, who led her into another room.

"Help out here," Jack glared at Finlay, dragging the unconscious Dawson inside. Braxton followed, throwing the bleeding Baker into the house.

"First stop the bleeding, then inject this." Jack handed Finlay two syringes of adrenaline he had swiped from the hospital.

"I'll help too." After guiding his wife to the back room, Stevenson returned, still pale but maintaining composure. He was, after all, a policeman and not entirely shocked by the sight.

Leaving the half-dead men to Finlay and Stevenson, Jack and Braxton went outside to load the three corpses into Baker's pickup, covering them with a tarp from the truck.

Returning inside and closing the door, they saw Baker clutching Stevenson's hand, begging for help.

"Help me, I don't want to die. Our families have known each other since you were a kid delivering newspapers. My aunt taught your wife in high school."

"And you brought Kleiner's killers to this family? Do you know his wife is pregnant?" Jack mocked, glancing at a bewildered Stevenson.

___________________

Read Ahead

P@treon.com/Mutter